Christmas, 1995

Genevieve Toussaint Karkaroff

A/N: Thanks again to my beta not_london!

***

Hogwarts was silent with the Christmas break under way. Severus Snape was enjoying the silence in his rooms. A good book, a bottle of firewhisky, and a crackling fire. Thank God he did not have to join the Death Eaters for their Christmas Gala. He had proven himself invaluable to the Dark Lord over the last few months. He had earned a well-deserved break.

Dumbledore, who had stuck his head into the fire, interrupted him abruptly. “Severus,” he called. “Please come to my office immediately.”

Snape sighed as he rose to put on his coat. Whatever could be going on now? Has Sybil gotten so drunk she fell down the stairs? he thought maliciously. He wound his way up the stairs and walked up to the Headmaster’s office. He could already hear murmuring. Albus isn’t alone, he thought.

He opened the door and saw Albus standing in front of his desk with a dark-haired woman seated with her back to the door. She turned, and Snape was faced with brilliant blue eyes. She stood, and her silver cloak revealing an even more stunning silver dress that accentuated her ample bosom. Her dark hair was most becoming up in a braided bun. Her skin was exquisite, alabaster white. Snape was overcome with her beauty, but pushed his emotions down and remained stone-faced.

“Professor Snape, please meet Genevieve Toussaint,” said Albus.

Genevieve smiled as she extended her hand to the Professor. “The Professor and I have met once before, though I doubt he remembers,” she said softly with the slightest trace of a French accent.

Snape was at a loss. He would have most definitely remembered such a lovely creature! His outer mask never revealed the inner fire that stirred.

“Were you a student of mine?” he asked rather briskly.

“Oh no!” she laughed.

God, her laugh is even beautiful! he thought.

“My mother was French. I attended Beauxbatons.” She turned back to Dumbledore. “Madame Maxine sends her regards.”

Albus nodded in acknowledgement.

Snape has seated himself in an armchair across from the young woman. He tried to discern her age. Not a student anymore, he mused. She must be in her twenties, early or mid twenties though. That must be why she had not come to the Triwizard Tournament last year, but where would I have met such an angel?

“Severus?” called Albus.

“My apologies, Headmaster. I just was trying to recall where I might have met Miss Toussaint in the past.”

“Well, we can journey down memory lane later. We have something of a serious nature to discuss, Severus. Tea? Miss Toussaint?” he offered.

“Please, thank you.”

Severus watched her take her tea with her delicate hands. He declined tea, intent on drinking in the sight before him. It had been such a long time since he had seen a beautiful woman who was indeed a true lady. She caught his eye and gave a shy smile. There was something in those blue eyes…

“Well, I suppose I should start,” she offered.

“Please,” urged Dumbledore.

“Well, my real and true name is Genevieve Karkaroff.” She slowly shifted her eyes to Snape, who was immediately catapulted back in time in his mind. He remembered a very young girl who had danced on his shoes, a shy, dreamy girl who had watched him for hours dance with the wives and lovers of Death Eaters and pure-bloods until she had curled up upon her chair and slept long into the wee hours of the Gala.

The Potions master was unnerved. This woman was someone that he had thought kindly on as a girl who could be a replica of a future daughter. Her tall, thin form, black hair and shy manner had made him feel so paternal. Honestly, it had been the only time he had ever felt paternal in his life—at nineteen, no less! Then he realized he must only be at most a decade older than she!

He was now deeply troubled and wished to escape from this room. The thoughts he had harbored just moments ago seemed filthy and dirty. It would not do!

The young woman continued. “As you recall, my father was here last year for the Triwizard Tournament. I was able to meet with him briefly just before he went into hiding. He always told me if I needed a safe place to stay, I should come here to Hogwarts, and that you, Headmaster, and you, Professor Snape, would help me.” She nodded to each wizard as she mentioned his name.

“I came home from a vacation I was on, visiting friends in Austria, when I discovered that my mother had been killed. I saw the Dark Mark. I hurriedly packed a few things and made my way here. I don’t know where my father is, but I know the Dark Lord is furiously angry with him and will kill him if he is discovered. I don’t want to find him; I don’t want to bring him any harm. I just don’t want to die, myself. I just don’t know where to turn.”

She fell silent then, awaiting her fate.

Dumbledore spoke. “Well, my dear, I will not turn you away. You may stay here; we can certainly ascertain your talents and where we can best place you. What, pray tell, is your profession?”

“I was working alongside Professor Dupont in her History of Magic classes. I was awaiting her retirement to officially take over as Professor.”

“How long were you in this capacity as instructor?” inquired Snape.

“Oh, since I left University, so—for five years.” She replied.

“Ah! If only Professor Binns were to take a sabbatical!” exclaimed Dumbledore.

To this, Snape snorted.

“I am not above being an assistant to the current Professor if he is open to the idea,” she offered.

“But, of course!” Dumbledore smiled. “We are happy to have you on our staff. I will make arrangements with Professor Binns. Congratulations, Professor Toussaint.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed.

She jumped up to shake Dumbledore’s hand, her cloak falling to the floor. Snape groaned inwardly with desire at the sight of her round bust and shapely hips. So, 26 years old! he thought, I’m only 35, after all, and she is not ten anymore.